Molly's Oneshot Birthday Countdown
by the lie written in ink
Summary: Dude, what the titles says. A collection of slash pairing oneshots and drabbles counting down to my birthday. COMPLETED.
1. Introduction: INTERMISIONINTERMISSIONLOL

Once upon there was a girl named Molly who loved writing fanfiction. She adored writing South Park yaoi and somehow managed to write stories while having an actual life. Anyway, this wonderful author was turning 16 soon. She was excited, oh so excited, but somehow got through school without ripping her hair out in anticipated frustration. She wanted to write something extra special to celebrate her birthday, but couldn't think of what. A Creek? No, it didn't seem enough. Maybe another poem? Naw, no one read them.

Then it came to her;  
CHARACTER PARTY!

She was ecstatic! She would make a collection of short stories, probably drabbles, every day until her birthday! People would read it and bow at her feet when May 7th came! "OH MOLLY," they'd grovel, "YOUR WRITING AWES US. WE LOVE YOU SO MUCH WE SHALL MAKE YOU AN AWESOME ONESHOT FOR YER BIRTHDAY."

Yup. It would _so _work.

So, she got to work, but ended up only typing a shitty intro—oh look, you're reading it! Well, guess what, it's all true. If you hadn't already guessed it (man, if you haven't, you need to buy a new brain. Go to Oz. :D) I'm Molly. And yes, on May 7th I'm turning 16. I'm pretty happy about it.

So, darling fans (hurhur, I say that as if I actually _have_ fans) I decided to make a count-down collection! Ths'right, every day up until my birthday I'm making short oneshots/drabbles from South Park, relevant to something that happened to me that day. And on my birthday, I'll post another mini-intermission and shiz.

Oh, and you'll all grovel at my feet and write me a birthday oneshot.

…

Right?

RIGHT?

DON'T YOU LOOOOOVE ME!? D:

Ahemm. Anyway. The countdown will begin tomorrow! Look forward to it, guyz! :D

PEACE OUT.

(omg btw, the countdown meter will be at the end of every drabble/oneshot. c:)

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**COUNTDOWN METER  
Days left: **16

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	2. Day 1: Pleasure

"Come on, Kyle, _everyone_ has a pleasure spot."

Angry green eyes shot up to smug blue ones. Stan and Kyle were in Stan's room, lazing around like content cats. Kyle was sprawled on Stan's bed soaking in the small filter of sunlight that shone through the window shades and Stan was leaning against the bed near Kyle's feet, fiddling with his broken game controller.

Somehow they got into this ridiculous argument.

"No they don't," Kyle retorted. "Not everyone has a specific spot that makes them…makes them…."

"Wither and moan in ecstasy?" Stan supplied with a smirk on his lips. Kyle's cheeks burned.

"Shut up, Stan, that's gross. And correct. Not everyone has a spot like that."

Stan frowned at him in frustration, twisting his body awkwardly to face the other boy better. He put the game controller next to the bed and shifted into a better position, folding his arms and leaning against the end of the bed, eyebrow quirked.

"So then Kyle, if that's true…" his smile made Kyle lean away in fear, "you won't mind if I help myself?"

Kyle's jaw clenched. "Stan, shut the hell up. You're being creepy again."

Stan frowned. "What?"

"You always do that!" Kyle exclaimed in frustration, pulling his legs to his chest and holding them tightly, annoyance radiating off him in waves. "You say something weird or creepy, and it really freaks me out, dude!"

Stan's frown turned into a smile. "Well, yeah, that's the point."

"The point?" Kyle sputtered. "The point to what!? Freak me out?"

"No," Stan said, "to distract you."

Somehow throughout their little awkward quarrel, Stan had crawled onto the bed and was sitting in front of Kyle, who just then realized what was going on. Kyle was shocked at how slow he was, and how he didn't see that Stan was moving. Somehow his brain seemed to block out the image of Stan crawling onto his bed, which was why Kyle didn't notice.

But he noticed now.

"Stan, get away," Kyle said in exasperation, refusing to let Stan any closer than he already was. "You're creeping me out."

"Am I?" Stan practically purred. "Am I really?"

"Yes," Kyle said blankly. "But now you're just being a retard. Now get away," he said, using his foot to push Stan's stomach, pushing him back. Stan stood his ground, hands clutching the sheets and eyebrow rising at the way Kyle's face turned a little pale.

"Man," he said. "Basketball really gave you some stamina."

Stan smirked. "Oh, it did, in more ways than one."

"Damn it—Stan! Stop doing that!"

Stan shrugged, seeming to grow bored of this flirting game. He eyed Kyle when the red-head saw the look and slowly lowered his foot, sighing in frustration, letting his guard down. That was why he didn't expect it when Stan jumped him.

"STAAAAAN!" he roared as the taller boy pounced, pinning him to the bed with a wicked little smile on his face. Kyle glared at him, ears turning a little red at the close proximity they shared.

"Kyle, darling," Stan said in what sounded like a taunting voice, "I'm just trying to prove you wrong."

"About what?" Kyle growled.

"Pleasure spot," he said brightly, grin widening when Kyle went paler than before.

"Shit, Stan, no fricking way—"

No other words left his lips, because Stan had his lips enclosed around the lobe of Kyle's ear, teeth grazing the skin. Kyle went limp, withering weakly as Stan's lips and teeth moved against his sensitive skin. He shuddered and pounded at the other boy's chest weakly, seemingly drained of energy. He sighed deeply and shivered again as Stan's tongue brushed across the outer shell of his ear, earning a small moan from Kyle.

Then he pulled away with a smug look on his face.

Kyle had trouble breathing and his face was flushed.

"See? Your pleasure spot is," he tugged Kyle's ear, wet with Stan's saliva, "heeeere."

Kyle couldn't find words.

"I win," Stan finished brightly. Kyle blinked and then growled deeply, sitting up so fast that his head knocked Stan's. Stan howled in surprise and pain, clutching his head and leaned back, though he was still at an awkward closeness to Kyle.

"You jerk!" Kyle shouted. Stan rubbed his head and glared at him slightly.

"Yeah, so what? No reason to head butt me."

"Yes it is!" Kyle replied hotly, even though the head butt thing was an accident. "That was—that was gross!"

Stan's face fell a little. Kyle hesitated, not expecting that response, and then clenched his fist in determination. He didn't know how Stan knew where his 'pleasure point' was, but he sure as hell knew Stan's. (He heard it from Wendy.)

"Stan," Kyle said darkly. Stan blinked at him and then opened his mouth in surprise when Kyle leaned forward, toppling on top of Stan. They both landed painfully on the floor next to the bed with Kyle pressed on top of Stan, his mouth on Stan's neck, moving to the skin that connected his shoulder and neck.

Stan gasped, moaned, and bucked.

_Holy shit,_ Kyle thought with suppressed laughter. _Horny much?_

He pulled away when Stan let out another whimpered groaning noise. He sat up so he sat on Stan's stomach, arms crossed and eyebrows raised so high they disappeared under his hair.

"Wow, Stan, I didn't realize how big of a pervert you are," he said. "All I did was kiss the spot and you were suddenly ready to dry hump me."

Stan went bright red but made no more to shove him off.

"Hmph," Stan said sulkily. Kyle shifted off him, clearing his throat awkwardly. What the hell just happened? They did that shit a lot; flirting that is, just for fun. They were both straight. Yet this was different; they never _touched_ before. Kyle also never felt aroused by Stan being close or the way he reacted at a simple touch.

"Let's play video games," Kyle suddenly said. Stan looked up at him.

"Yeah…" he cleared his throat and sat up, "I'm up for pokemon."

"You have the Wii game?"

"A-yup."

"Sweet, let's go."

"Alright."

"Hey, by the way Stan?" Kyle looked at his friend, who was clawing through his Wii games in an attempt to find Pokemon while Kyle turned the game console on along with the TV. At his name Stan looked at him from over his shoulder.

"Yeah?"

"I have other pleasure spots, too, you know."

Stan blinked. He dropped the pokemon game and grinned.

"Is that so?"

"Yeah. It's so."

**

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**COUNTDOWN METER  
Days left: **15

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	3. Day 2: Eternity

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Based off "This Is For Keeps" by **The Spill Canvas.  
**Check it out. That band is amazing and that song is beautiful. c:

* * *

I realize, at that moment, what I was doing.

The darkness seemed to soothe my troubled mind, but yet it couldn't be put at ease. I walk down the lonely streets with numb hands shoved in my ratty orange jacket pockets, my breathing leaving me in mists of breath, icy in the cold wind that surrounded me. Grey moonlight made my bright blue eyes glow as I neared his house, already catching his familiar, beautiful scent.

I realized, at that moment, what I was planning to do. I knew at that moment that I was going to, no matter what, make him mine. Because with him, I was happy. With him I wasn't a vampire; I was Kenny. I was just me. He didn't judge me or run away when he found out what I was. He stayed with me, he loved me; he was there.

I love him. I want him to be with me forever. But even eternity didn't seem enough. He always has to be there holding my hand or laughing in that cute way of his. He has to always hold me and stay with me. I would protect him.

So, please God, let me commit this sin. I promise I'll protect and love him forever if you don't punish me for this terrible sin I'm about to commit.

I round his corner and see his house, plain in sight. I see he left his window open again and I could see him clearly despite my distance. He was at his desk doing homework, sitting there so beautifully, completely unaware of what I was about to do.

When I knock on his door, I feel something stir inside me, a kind of reaction I wasn't used to. It seemed to beg my body to hurry, to hold him again and join me in immortality.

He opens the door, eyes soft and smile innocent. His smile grows when he sees it's me and he stepped outside without a second thought, shutting his door.

"Gee, Kenny," he says, and I close my eyes at the sound of his voice, "it's so late. What are you doin' here?"

I open my eyes. "Sorry," I say softly. "I wanted to see you one last time like this," I reached out and pull him close, breathing in the familiar smell he always has. He's startled at first but then he eases into me and holds me as well. I listen to his gentle heartbeat and press my cheek against his, sighing at his warmth.

"Won't you join me in eternity?" I whisper in his ear lovingly. His eyes snap open and he looks at me, eyes large and confused.

"Please," I plead him, kissing his cheek. "Please," I continue as I kiss his nose. I watch his eyes droop at my touch and he leans closer, not perturbed at all at my selfish request. "Come with me," I whispered, encouraged at his reaction. "We'll leave this town behind. We can go anywhere."

His eyes flicker to mine and he smiles. "Take me there, Kenny," he says. "Let me join your world."

"Haa," a sigh that formed words left my lips. "I love you," I say gently, knowing that the pretty words wouldn't cushion the pain. I pull him to me tightly and pull my lips back, fangs sinking into his soft flesh eagerly. I let my beast free and I drink, cradling him in my arms as he withers and groans in pain. But he doesn't scream and he doesn't cry.

I pull away as crimson drips from my lips and runs down my chin. I watch his limp form twitch in my arms, eyes fluttering shut, his blood smeared over his neck and cheek, staining his baby-blue hoodie that looked aged from time.

I pull him close and kiss his cold cheek as his eyes twitch again, heartbeat still but breathing even. A new, dark life began to sink into him, fake blood running through his veins as he left the world of mortality.

"I love you," I whisper, "Butters."

**

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**COUNTDOWN METER  
Days left: **14

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	4. Day 3: Sin

Sometimes, I wonder how you can be so perfect. When I look into your eyes, and you smile, I feel numb with confusion. Is such a beautiful thing able to last? Seeing your smile, feeling you beside me, will it always be there?

Your skin feels soft against my hands, but you only smile again, and I feel guilt run through my veins as I kiss you. Devouring you in my greedy lust, you cry, but I don't regret this sin. If I hold you, I tell myself you'll be alright. I tell myself you won't mind if I at least stay with you, because even if you hate me, I'll stay by your side.

So, when I press you to the bed and dig my fingernails into your soft skin, you cry out as crimson stains the sheets, and you wither beneath me.

"Damien," you breathe, and the sound is so beautiful, so I stop. I stare, and I wish, with everything I have, that maybe you'll be okay with this. Maybe, I hope, maybe.

Maybe you'll let me stay with you.

Won't you let me stay?

But, I hate myself too much. I hate myself so much, I wonder if that hate will interfere with my ability to love you? One day, it will fade.

"One day," you promise, and I can't help but wonder what you think of this. It's surely a sin, a horrible sin, but I love this. I love you.

So on the day I left, I was strong. I didn't hesitate, despite the way you looked at me so brokenly, tears staining your face as you begged me to stay. I felt horrible, but I stayed cold, the warmth you saw in me gone. I didn't say goodbye but you held me anyway, and your tears soaked my shirt, and my heart felt heavy. You kissed me and I felt the salt on your lips as you whisper my name, a plea I tune out as I push you away, like I have been doing for years.

"Pip," I say, but then I stop because I know if I continue, I'll stay. So instead I pull away and ignore your voice as, alone, I walk into darkness. Your voice fades away, and slowly time consumes me, and my memories grow thin. I forget, I remember, I wish, I miss, I yearn. In the end, you're not here, and I'm alone. Somehow, this loneliness is familiar.

It keeps me alive. It keeps me from running back to you.

I never run back to you  
again.

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**COUNTDOWN METER  
Days left: **13

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	5. Day 4: Oreos

"CARTMAN! DAMNIT, I TOLD YOU NOT TO EAT MY OREOS!"

Said fat boy looked up when the Jew walked in, red in the face, a scowl etched on his flushed face. Cartman swallowed the last of the cookies and grinned, his teeth stained with chocolate and cream. Kyle's jaw tightened.

"Well, sorr-ie," he retorted. "It's your damn fault for leavin' them out knowing I was here."

Kyle glared. "First off, I don't _want_ you here, but my mom offered since your mom is out of town. Secondly, I specifically told you not to eat them, fatass!"

"Ei, I aint fat!" Cartman shouted, nearly knocking over his empty glass of milk when he jumped off the chair. Kyle rolled his eyes.

"Doesn't matter how many times you say it, fatass, it'll never be true."

Cartman scowled, fists clenched. He raised one of his arms and pointed at Kyle boldly. "Ya, well, no matter how many times you try to act like a normal human being, you're still an inhuman being!"

"I'M JEWISH, IDIOT, NOT A FREAKING VAMPIRE!"

Cartman tilted his head. "There's a difference?"

"Damnit Cartman, shut up! I'm still pissed you ate my Oreos! My mom never lets me buy those! I can only have a little bit sometimes, 'else my blood sugar gets too high!" he seethed, arms crossed. Cartman didn't seem sympathetic at all.

"So what? It's your fault for being diabetic."

"It's not like I chose it!" Kyle snapped back. "Geez!"

Cartman looked at the other boy lazily. "Hmm, so, Kahl, you really want your Oreos?"

Kyle's jaw clenched. "Yes! I do!"

Cartman grinned, advancing toward the unsuspecting Jew. He backed up, suddenly fearful of what the large boy was intending to do.

"Eh—Eh? What the hell Cartman…!"

Cartman's grin widened. "I'll give you some Oreos."

"Get away from me, fatass!" Kyle shouted as Cartman practically pinned him against the wall. "Stop acting weird!"

"What?" Cartman said, a bit irritated. "You're the one who said you wanted your damn oreos, so I'll give you your damn—" he grabbed his chin roughly, yanking the other boy's face toward him, lips so close to Kyle that he almost felt them. "—oreos!" he finished before he crashed his wet lips against Kyle's clumsily.

"MPPPH!?!?!" Kyle's smothered cry didn't seem to faze Cartman. The other boy's tongue was sharing the chocolate taste with Kyle, smearing the flavor all over his mouth. Once he was done Cartman pulled away and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, a smirk on his face.

Kyle gaped at him, eyes wide.

"Suck _that_," Cartman sneered, "fag."

He turned and flounced off, leaving a very confused Kyle with the lingering taste of chocolate and Cartman on his tongue.

**

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**COUNTDOWN METER  
Days left: **12

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	6. Day 5: Dear Craig

Dear Craig,

Sorry for everything that's happened lately. I know you're mad at me; hell, I would be mad too. But I couldn't help react that way when you…kissed me.

We've been friends since forever. Preschool I think. Do you remember? We used to fight for the swing next to BeBe and we'd kick eachother when one of us lost a video game. I mean, that's what best friends do, right? We beat up others who are mean to us, for the other person's sake, and we laugh together and don't care about anything but our friendship.

So why did you kiss me? I mean, I wasn't exactly resistant to it I know, but it still…shocked me. How could my best friend kiss me? I admit I enjoyed it; keeping in my feelings for years leaves a toll on me physically.

But anyway.

I want to know one thing; did you do it for a weird reason, like a bet or curiosity? Or do you…love me like I love you?

If you don't love me back, I understand. Just ignore me and don't look at me. I feel better letting it out anyway, so thanks for at least giving me that opportunity.

Well, that's all I wanted to say.

--**Clyde.**

PS: You're not a bad kisser, either…

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**COUNTDOWN METER  
Days left: **11

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	7. Day 6: Dear Clyde

Dear Clyde,

What's with that sappy letter? It nearly made me gag. And gawd, how middle school Clyde, leaving it in my locker. I mean, why a letter anyway? Are you too much of a pussy to say that to my face?

Damnit, why am I like that? I start writing this to tell you the truth and now I just keep insulting you.

Let me get to the point.

I do like you Clyde. Like that. More than friend like or whatever.

When I kissed you, I didn't know what I was doing. And why the fuck did you think it was some bet? I wouldn't fucking do that to you! If I didn't like you I wouldn't risk our friendship by kissing you for a stupid bet.

But anyway, I wanted to say that. I really do like you Clyde, and that kiss…amazing. I mean, minus the fact you punched me afterward, I still thought it was worth it.

Anyway, that's the truth Clyde. I won't avoid you or anything. I'll stay by your side, so suck it up and deal with it.

I hope you got this letter. I sent that dumbass Wendy to give it to you. I dunno, she has class with you, so it seemed okay.

Anyway, even if you don't, don't be surprised when I give you a big one during lunch. In front of everyone.

Fuck yes.

I'm not kidding.

**--Craig.**

PS: I know, I was voted best kisser in eighth grade, remember?

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**COUNTDOWN METER  
Days left: **10

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	8. Day 7: Body Heat

"Oh my _gawd_."

Craig looked up lazily when he heard his friend's whine. Craig raised his eyebrow as Clyde stretched, lips pressing into a thin frown, fingers splayed across the desk as he opened his hands and pressed his palms against it. The two boys were assigned to after-school cleaning, but they planned to do none of the work.

"It's so…" Clyde groaned and buried his sweaty face into his arm, "fucking hot."

Craig smirked. "Naw, man, ths'just me."

Clyde gave him a glare. "I'm serious! I'm burning up! See? Look," he pointed at his sweaty forehead angrily. "I'm figgin sweating like crazy."

Craig laughed. "Didn't you hear? Teacher said the air conditioner broke like, two days ago. It doesn't help that the heats been acting up."

"Got that right," Clyde agreed in a mumble, covering his face with his hands. "Damnit."

Craig smirked, leaning forward from where he sat on top of Clyde's desk. He reached out and brushed his fingertips along the sweaty boy's forehead, blinking when sweat dripped from his fingers. Clyde gave him an 'I told you so' look and Craig blinked at his moist fingers.

"Damn, you _are _hot."

Clyde smirked. "Why thank you, dear," he said. Craig rolled his eyes and pressed the back of his hand to the other boy's forehead to see how hot he was. Clyde suddenly shivered and sighed, his throat making a noise of a mix between a sigh and a moan.

Craig blinked and Clyde went red.

"Your hand is fucking cold," Clyde said, leaning against Craig's hand, an angry look on his face. "Keep it on there. It feels good."

Craig blinked but obeyed, pressing his palm against the other boy's forehead. Clyde closed his eyes and sighed, a content look on his face that was simply adorable to Craig. So, ever the pervert, Craig moved his hand to slip down his forehead and pressed against his neck. Clyde's head tilted and he sighed.

"Feel good?" Craig raised his eyebrow.

"Mmmm," Clyde sighed.

Craig grinned. "Is your dick feeling hot too?"

Clyde's eyes snapped open and he jerked backward, clumsily pushing a laughing Craig away. "Damnit it Craig, shut the hell up!"

Craig kept laughing, holding his gut. "Dude, your face…!" he sputtered between his hysterical laughter. Clyde's eyes burned with annoyance as he glowered at Craig.

"Dang dude, you're disgusting," he mumbled sulkily, hiding slightly red cheeks as he pressed his own sweaty palms against his cheeks. Craig stopped laughing and grinned at him.

"Sorry man, it was just there, waiting to be said."

Clyde rolled his eyes. "Whatever dude. We can leave now anyway, our hour of hell is up."

Craig slid off the desk and stretched as the two boys padded off toward the front door.

"I'm gonna go home, put on the fan and eat ice cream," Clyde announced as they headed to the school doors, walking down the echoing empty hallways. Craig scratched the side of his neck and fixed his hat.

"Cool. Need me there to touch anything on your body that gets too hot?"

"Shut the fuck up Craig."

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**COUNTDOWN METER  
Days Left: **9

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	9. Day 8: Don't Forget

It hurt to see him with another. Watching Stan with Wendy made my chest ache and my mouth dry. Did he already forget? He acted like he did; he talked to me as if our love never happened. As if we were just friends the whole time and nothing more.

It really hurt.

It hurt that he forgot already.

I remembered though. The gentle way he held me or kissed me. The way he held my hand and laughed when we were together. The first time we spent a night together, the first time we got into a fight and our first make up. I remembered it all.

I can't believe he forgot.

How can he forget?

It hurt to watch how he held her and kissed her. What about me? I didn't want to end it, but Stan was sick of hiding it and sneaking around. He said he was sick of being with another man.

That hurt more.

He spoke to me easily, as if we never had what we had.

"_I love you Kyle_," he used to whisper. I remember the way his voice sounded. How his hands stroked my cheeks softly, his gentle eyes and warm smile. I remember the way he held me after sex, or held my hand when I got scared or nervous. He was so sensitive to how I felt.

Yet he hurt me, and now he's acting like it never happened.

"Kyle," he said and I snapped to attention, eyes flickering to my friend in surprise. He had his arm around Wendy, who was texting and snuggling into him. I blinked slowly and straightened slightly.

"What?"

"Could you…y'know, cover for me?" he rubbed the back of his head in that cute way he does. His smile was sheepish as he pulled Wendy tighter to his side. I hid my grimace.

"Why? Can't you go out?" I mumbled. He shrugged.

"Mom is strict about going on dates on school nights. Come on dude, all you have to do is say I'm studying with you if she calls."

It hurt but I forced a smile. "Whatever."

"I owe you one!" he said, punching my shoulder in gratitude and hurrying off, gently leading Wendy with him. I watched him go, rubbing my shoulder and blinking as he waved to me with a wink before slamming my door shut.

It was then that I realized, even if he forgot, even if he didn't care anymore, I was content with staying by his side. At least I had memories to get me by. All I wanted was him to be happy. Even if he didn't remember, or if he never wants to remember what we had…

As long as he was happy, I was fine.

**

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**COUNTDOWN METER  
Days Left:** 8

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	10. Day 9: One Look

Sometimes,  
one look can make your heart stop.

Sometimes,  
one look can make you melt into your garage-sale sneakers.

Sometimes,  
one look can make you wonder if love exists.

Sometimes,  
one look can make your head fuzzy and your mouth feel like cotton.

Sometimes,  
one look can make your skin hot and your heart sputter in your chest  
knocking around your rib cage until your chest aches.

Sometimes,  
one look can make you fall  
so deep that you can never climb out.

One look  
can kill you.

Over and over and over and over and over again.

**

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**COUNTDOWN METER  
Days Left:** 7

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	11. Day 10: Midnight Coffee Run

I found myself waking up to a shaking Tweek, obviously in freak-out mode. I slowly sat up, rubbing my head and blinking at him sleepily. He was shaking, slamming open cabinets and mumbling to himself. I glanced at the clock; 3:00 am.

"Tweek," I said, slipping off the bed. He squeaked and spun to me, eyes wide and baggy, face pale. I felt a pang of worry.

"S-Sorry, did I wake you?"

"Hmn," I mumbled. "What's wrong?"

"W-We're out of coffee!" he wailed. "I need it!"

I rubbed my temple, turning and yanking my jacket on then jeans. He watched as I slid shoes on and grabbed my keys.

"Tha…Thank you," he whispered. I only slammed the door shut and hurried to my car. The sky was dark and the moon bright, but I still was on edge about being out so late. Not that I couldn't totally take them—er, whoever would dare attack me.

I slid into my car, mumbling to myself as I shoved the keys in the ignition, turning it. The engine roared to life and I eased out of the apartment parking lot, pulling into the road.

If I was in this situation two years before, I probably would still be in bed. But, over the four years I've been with Tweek I seem to be going soft the more I'm with him. He was tolerant about my bad habits; he didn't complain about my smoking, my flipping off people, or the way I threw things when I was frustrated. So, why couldn't I tolerate the one thing about Tweek that annoyed me? I loved his spazzy, twitchy ways, but his coffee obsession bothered me. Either way, I adapted to it, and I was more willing to do these kinds of things.

The grocery store wasn't too far from our apartment building, so I was in and out within fifteen minutes. I exited the store with coffee blend and cigarettes, pulling one out and lighting it before pressing it between my lips and inhaling. I climbed into my car, putting the grocery bag in the passenger seat and hurried home, tossing my cigarette out the window when I neared the building.

I parked in the parking lot before I slid from the car, walking up to our apartment. Once I locked the door behind me I walked to the kitchen, where Tweek was waiting. When I walked in he perked up, sleepy-looking as I handed him the coffee blend.

I smoked until Tweek finished brewing his coffee and watched him chug it. I stubbed the cigarette in an ash tray on the counter and followed Tweek back to the bedroom. He mutely climbed into bed next to my blonde boyfriend. We lay there for a couple minutes before I felt Tweek snuggle against my back, face nuzzling into my neck, lips brushing my skin with the movement.

"Thank you, Craig," he whispered sleepily. I sighed, closing my eyes and gently ran my hand against the back of his. In that moment, despite my disgruntled state and exhausted mood, I knew that despite the things I didn't like about Tweek, the things I loved outweighed them.

**

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**COUNTDOWN METER  
Days Left:** 6

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	12. Day 11: Beautiful Eyes

Looking in your beautiful eyes,  
my words fail me  
as I feel my heart pound with the force of your beauty.

Looking in your beautiful eyes,  
I seem to lose myself entirely.

Slowly, we blunder,  
and make mistakes  
and we fall.

But with your beautiful eyes  
you pull me up again  
and we revive.

Together,  
we fly away  
and hand-in-hand  
we will leave this town behind.

Looking in your beautiful eyes  
I feel safe  
and I know we'll be okay.

**

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**COUNTDOWN METER  
Days Left:** 5

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	13. Day 12: Heaven

"Cartman, you idiot! That's not a sword, it's a knife!"

"Arghh, matey! I be stealin' yer blunder!"

"You're such a retard, fatass."

"EI! DON'T CALL THE CAPTAIN A FATASS!"

"Hey, hey! Careful with that, kids! Don't swing that around—"

And that's the last thing Kenny heard, because Cartman swung around the large knife and it flew from his hands, flying across the room and pinning Kenny against the wall, impaling through his skin.

"OH MY GOD, YOU KILL KENNY!"

"YOU BASTARD!"

Kenny felt his soul wrench from his body, floating upward, toward heaven…again. His body still stay pinned to the wall, dead, and the class of culinary students went on about their business while the teacher sighed and called for clean up. Kenny was used to this; no one really cared about him after he died. He always came back anyway.

Except for him; the boy who, at that moment, scrambled over to Kenny's body with wide eyes, an agonized noise leaving his throat.

"Kenny!" he called, staring at the dead boy in horror. No one noticed his anguish. He began to cry, standing in front of Kenny's dead body. Even though he knew Kenny would be coming back, he still cried every time.

Somehow, as he floated to heaven, Kenny was happy. Somehow, as he was kicked out again and landed back in his body, he knew the first person he was going to see back on earth again would be Butters.

**

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**

**COUNTDOWN METER  
Days Left:** 4

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	14. Day 13: Shopping Trip

It was a normal, bright Saturday afternoon. The sun was shining, the birds were singing, the sky was blue. All was well and peaceful—

"YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!"

Except with Butters Scotch. No, Butters was in a pickle. He was doing his weekly past-time, dressing up as his alter-girl-ego at South Park Mall; which, by the way, no one he knew shopped. No boys or girls; he made sure of that. It was a safe zone.

So you could imagine his horror when he saw none other then Kenny standing outside the dressing room, looking bored…then shocked when he saw Butters in a pink dress.

Hence the scream,

In the present, Kenny was staring at him and Butters was scrambling into his dressing room, bright red and horrified. He almost made it when Kenny slammed the door open, kicked him in using his dirty boot, and slammed it shut. Butters whimpered, shrinking against the stall wall and staring at the other boy with wide eyes.

"G-Gee Kenny, um, you see, I was just…"

His eyes were like flames. "Butters. You…look…fucking…adorable."

Butters winced but then blinked, confused. "Um…er, what?"

"I said it, didn't I?" Kenny said gently, kneeling in front of the shaking boy. He cried out and pressed more against the wall, pale and wide-eyed.

"N-No…! It's gross, right?"

"I admit it's strange," Kenny mused, rubbing his chin and eyeing Butters, who unknowingly was flashing his underwear the way he was sitting with his knees under his chin. Kenny eyed the flashed underwear and luckily Butters was too busy freaking out to notice where Kenny's eyes were.

"…and then, then I'll be called a faggot and get beat up, and…waahh!"

"Whoa, Butters," Kenny said, once again in the real world. He put a hand on Butter's shoulder. "I won't tell anyone."

The blonde blinked teary blue eyes at the smirking teen. "R…Really?"

"On one condition," he said, brushing blonde hair out of Butter's flushed face. He shuddered at the gentle motion and Kenny's smirk grew.

"Take me on your next shopping trip."

**

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**

**COUNTDOWN METER  
Days Left:** 3

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	15. Day 14: Pants

It was a quiet Sunday afternoon and Tweek was tired. He was nodding off as he sat at his desk, half-asleep and half-finished with his home work that was due the next day at school. Slight drool dribbled from his bottom lip and he struggled to keep his eyes open, fearing if he let himself nod off he'd never finish his home work.

His pet goldfish Bubbles tried to help him stay awake by slamming against the glass or making loud popping noises, which somehow helped the young blonde stay awake. Once he was almost done with his math he heard something at his window. Startled, he leapt to his feet and jerked open the window, eyes wide…

"C…Craig…!?"

Said friend grinned and slipped into the room, dripping wet from the rain outside.

"Wh-what are you doing here!"

Craig pulled the other boy to him and kissed him deeply for his reply. Tweek was rendered speechless as Craig yawned and stretched dramatically, looking around his friend—er, boyfriend's?—room lazily.

"W…GAH…." Tweek smacked his shaking hand over his burning lips as Craig flopped on his bed.

"Did you finish your home work yet?"

Tweek shook his head. "I…I was on the last problem…"

Craig grinned. "Sweet, that means you can finish it tomorrow or later tonight."

"Wh…Why not now?" He stuttered. Craig's predatorial grin made Tweek's palms sweat and his heart ache. Craig advanced on him, pressing him against his wall.

"Because," he said as he leaned forward, sensually tapping his fingers down Tweek's chest, to the zipper on his pants. His finger pressed the zipper, fiddling with it teasingly then slowly zipped down. Tweek screamed but was silenced by Craig's finger on his lips.

"Because," he repeated as he threw Tweek's pants across the room, not noticing when they landed on the moving fan, "we'll be busy doing other things."

"GAH! HOLY SHIT."

"Shh, your mom will hear."

"D-Don't do those things Craig!"

"But you're blushing. And you look ready…"

"GAH! DON'T LOOK THERE!"

"Hahahaha!"

"DON'T LAUGH! GAH! HOLY SHIT."

A lot of crashing and loud noises later, Craig was on the other side of Tweek's room holding his throbbing head. Tweek was across from him, arms crossed and expression annoyed as he angrily wrote on his home work.

"Aww….Tweek…I said I was sorry…"

"Shut up!" Tweek shouted, twitching sharply. "I'm almost done."

"….fine, fine, we'll just go see a movie."

Tweek hid a smug look. Yeah, being around Craig taught him how to be in command every now and then. That's right, Tweek was learning how to be the pants of their strange, strange relationship—

"GAH! CRAIG! WHEN DID YOU TAKE MY PANTS OFF AGAIN!? SHIT! WAH! DON'T TOUCH THERE! CRAAAAAAAAAAAAIG!"

Or not.

**

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**

**COUNTDOWN METER  
Days Left:** TOMORROW! WHOO! :D

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	16. THE END D

**Hello!**

Yupyup, today, I'm 16! So, this ends my Oneshot book. Thanks for encouraging me and reviewing and following the book.

Well, this is the end! I'm going to celebrate with friends. ;D

Thanks again! Love yeh guys, byyyye~

**Happy birthday to me!**

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